


Guiding Light

by theladylabyrinth



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - School Counselor, Alternate Universe - Teachers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light Angst, Mostly Fluff, Slow Burn, like so slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-03-16 23:31:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13646703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladylabyrinth/pseuds/theladylabyrinth
Summary: Jughead Jones just started as the new school counselor at his alma mater, Southside Elementary School, where Betty Cooper is the sweet, bubbly, and award-winning fourth grade reading teacher. They try to keep their relationship professional, but they can't resist their undeniable attraction.Mostly fluff, some angst. Maybe some smut. If so, ratings will change.





	1. Meeting Mr. Jones

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this story, inspired by my life as a real life fourth grade teacher :) I love teacher Betty and grown-up Jughead would make a great school counselor.

  
  


Betty stood up, wiping her brow and looking around at the stacks of paperback books that surrounded her: historical fiction, nonfiction, science, social studies, fantasy, mystery, and general fiction. She had been organizing her classroom library all morning and when she glanced at the clock, her stomach growled. It was 1:00 in the afternoon and she hadn’t eaten anything since the granola bar she’d had on her way to the school building that morning. 

 

She sighed and debated between leaving to grab lunch or diving back in to get her bookcase labeled and the books shelved properly. Choosing the former, she dusted her hands on the legs of her overalls and refreshed her email before grabbing her car keys, wallet, and phone, and heading down the hallway to where her Prius was parked.

 

“Hey, V, I’m going to grab lunch. Do you want -- Oh! Sorry, I didn’t realize you had a visitor.” Betty started to apologetically back out of her teammate’s classroom but Veronica called her back in.

 

“Wait, Betty. This is Mr. Jones. He’s making the rounds to meet all the teachers before school starts. He’s our new school counselor.”

 

While Veronica made the introductions for both of them, Betty had a chance to get a good look at the man. He was tall.  _ Very tall _ in a way that made Betty suddenly wonder how high on his body her lips could reach if she stood on her toes before shaking her head slightly and giving him a shy smile and a firm handshake.

 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Cooper,” bellowed a deep voice that commanded authority, but also made her feel safe and comfortable. Like she was being shrouded in a wool blanket after surviving a snowstorm. Betty’s first thought was that he definitely had the physical qualifications to be an effective counselor, and she wondered if he would do more - well, counseling - than the woman who previously held his spot. Betty had barely been able to get an email back from Mrs. Martinez last year, and most of the emotional turmoil, discipline issues, and other counselor responsibilities had been left to be handled in the classroom. Her expectations were not high, but she hoped Mr. Jones would step up to the plate to benefit their struggling population of students.

 

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Jones. I was just headed out to lunch. Can I get either of you anything while I’m out?”

 

“No thanks, B. I’ve got leftover tortilla soup and curriculum planning to do, so I’ll hold down the fort here.”

 

“How about you, Mr. Jones? Has your wife packed you a lunch for your first day?” Betty inwardly chided herself for being so blatantly obvious and she glared at Veronica’s knowing, scandalized smirk. 

 

Mr. Jones just smiled sheepishly and ducked his head, saying that no, he did not have a lunch packed and had ordered a pizza earlier.

 

Betty and Veronica both looked at him completely deadpan, waiting for him to laugh at the joke he’d made but he simply shrugged, and still looking a little sheepish, said “What? A guy’s gotta eat.”

 

At that, Betty’s attention snapped back and she said “Well then, I’m off to pick up my salad. Be back in ten, V. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones!” she called over her shoulder before she disappeared back down the hallway, her converse squeaking on the freshly waxed floors. 

 

Jughead just stared after her as she retreated, and Veronica rolled her eyes as she suspected that the story there was only just beginning.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Jughead had arrived early on the first work day of the school year, hoping to start moving into his office and get to know the faculty at his new school. Once he had his personal belongings situated the way he liked them in his desk, he started hauling in the boxes that held the items he used to actually do his job: legos, a dollhouse, stacks and stacks of children’s books and counseling reference books, fidgets, stress balls, thinking putty, and everything else he was equipped with to help the children he encountered handle whatever their young lives threw their way.

 

He knew that the population at Southside Elementary was a difficult one, with a low socioeconomic status and heavy crime and gang activity in this part of town. He himself had gone to Southside Elementary, Middle, and High School, and he looked forward to being able to relate to the kids who were now experiencing the life he knew all too well.

 

He decided it was time for a break and after ordering and consuming an entire medium supreme pizza from his old favorite joint that he couldn’t believe was still open, he set off down the halls to introduce himself to each member of the staff. 

 

He started in the front office with the receptionist, data manager, school nurse (part time - Jughead made a mental note to make sure his office was stocked with basic first aid supplies), and the administration who had hired him. Then he made his way up the kindergarten and first grade hall, second and third grade, and then finally to the fourth and fifth grade hall all the way at the back of the school. The school was laid out simply so thankfully he didn’t get lost like he had in the middle school he had been principal of in New York. 

 

As he entered the first classroom on the final hall, he was greeted by a short Latina woman who introduced herself as Veronica Lodge, a fourth grade math and science teacher. After a short conversation with her about any immediate needs she might have and informing her that a survey would be emailed to her so he could get a feel for what type of support the teachers really needed from him, her attention was drawn to the door. 

 

As her eyes left his, Jughead turned around to see what had distracted her and he had to mentally slap himself to keep his composure. There standing before him was a glowing woman whose sunniness was only enhanced by the crisp white t shirt and overalls she wore. Her topknot and bandana tied on her head let him know that she was planning on doing a lot of hard work today, and suddenly he wanted to skip the rest of his introductions and unpacking his own office to move boxes, hold ladders, and do literally anything that this woman needed him to, including but not limited to being a human footstool.

 

He cleared his throat and offered his hand as Veronica introduced him to this woman, and then introduced the blonde as Betty Cooper: fourth grade English and Social Studies teacher. 

 

Jughead entirely missed the silent exchange the two women shared with only their eyes, as he was doing everything he could not to embarrass himself. Before he knew it, she was offering to pick up lunch, and he managed to stick his foot in his mouth by informing them that he had already eaten an entire pizza.  _ Good going, sideshow. Let yourself be known as the school pig before they even know you. Very professional. _

 

Jughead ran his hand through his hair nervously as he continued his silent self-deprecation, and before he knew it the lights in the room seemed to dim as Betty Cooper disappeared back down the hall. Suddenly he regained his senses and turned around to see Veronica Lodge, his new coworker, already rolling her eyes at him and shaking her head. 

 

Jughead mumbled to himself as he exited her classroom to retreat back to his office,  _ “Great first impression, Jug. Really. You lose your complete fucking mind at the sight of this girl and already these women think you’re some kind of deranged psyc --” _

 

He stopped in his tracks as he collided with none other than Betty Cooper herself, and his arms flung out to catch her before she could fall, not realizing that she had reached out at the same time to catch herself, and they clung to each other’s arms for a few moments, gazing fearfully into each other’s eyes in shock before they both let go of each other at the same time, awkwardly stumbling through apologies and each making sure the other was ok.

 

Betty ducked her head and giggled nervously, holding up what she held in her hand and murmuring, “forgot my badge to get back in,” as an explanation for her unexpected re-exit from her classroom. Jughead rubbed the back of his neck and Betty thought it must be a self-soothing gesture as he apologized again and bid her a “see you later,” continuing back toward his office and forgoing the rest of his introductions until tomorrow. He needed to find something to do with his hands and to keep his mind off Miss Betty Cooper, fourth grade teacher, and force of nature that he had no idea was about to turn his life absolutely upside down.


	2. Open House

**Chapter 2 - Open House**

 

The last teacher work day of the week was when the school had an open house for students to meet their new teachers. Betty spent most of the day in her favorite pair of athletic leggings paired with a big t shirt and tennis shoes, with her open house clothes and make up bag stashed in the supply closet by the door. 

 

She blasted music from her computer speakers as she put the finishing touches on her nautical themed classroom: hanging the anchor-printed curtains she had sewn the night before, stapling paper anchors and boat-themed quotes to the walls, and organizing all her classroom supplies into red and blue containers along the shelves. Each student was already assigned a cubby and a desk, their names written in her flawless print that could be mistaken for typeface, and she stood at her door scanning the room for any imperfections. 

 

Not a pencil was out of place, and she knew that at 3:00 on Monday afternoon, the place would be as good as trashed after a day full of introducing procedures and getting to know you activities. But she didn’t care. These students needed to know that she had put the time into making their learning environment just right, and she would spend every weekday afternoon for the next nine months cleaning up after the messes they made as they explored the world from her well-stocked classroom on the Southside of Riverdale.

 

“Wow, it looks great in here.” Rumbled a deep voice behind her, but he was barely able to finish the sentence before Betty leapt out of her skin with a squeal and whipped around on the new school counselor, Mr. Jones. 

 

He looked panicked but apologetic and Betty pressed her hand over her heart to slow its rapid pace and tried to catch her breath. 

 

“Mr. Jones! I’m so sorry, I was lost in thought and I must not have heard you come up behind me!” Betty had finally caught her breath but she couldn’t identify why her heart was still racing until he smirked and responded.

 

“That’s perfectly alright, Miss Cooper. I shouldn’t walk so softly when approaching I guess.” His low voice resonated all the way from her ears down to her belly and she realized why her heart was still beating much too quickly beneath her palm.

 

He seemed much more confident than when she had met him earlier in the week, and she figured he must have been settling into the school comfortably by now, having met everyone and attended a few staff meetings to prepare for the school year. 

 

She had only seen him from a distance since their first time meeting. Since Monday, everyone had been thrown into preparing their classrooms, being updated on the latest safety rules and procedures, and training for the new curriculum they’d be receiving this year. 

 

The school had written and won a grant to get new books and resources that were actually relevant to the twenty-first century, rather than the textbooks that Jughead had seen being hauled off upon his arrival. He had recognized as the same ones that he had learned from as a child. They had been out of date twenty years ago and he couldn’t believe they were only now being sent off to be recycled. He tsked at the ratty covers and pages that were so graffiti’d that you couldn’t even read most of them, but was grateful the students would be getting an upgrade.

 

Nothing says “no one believes in your future” like obsolete educational materials.

 

Mr. Jones now stood in front of her, also dressed casually for the workday before the students and their parents arrived. He wore bootcut jeans and worn leather boots, along with a t-shirt that was printed with a faded S, and a blue plaid flannel that shrouded his frame. Atop his head sat a strange-looking, crown-shaped beanie with two buttons on the side.

 

His dark hair swooped out from the front of it, and she wondered how the curl remained so perfectly in place all day before she realized he had asked her a question. 

 

He stared at her expectantly, and was starting to look a little concerned before she stuttered out, “I...I’m sorry - what did you say?”

 

He laughed gruffly and asked again, “So how does this open house work, exactly?”

 

“Oh! Well we usually don’t have much of a turn out. I’ll be grateful if a third of my students show up. Most of their parents work multiple jobs or don’t have a car. But they basically just come in to find out where their classroom is, meet their teachers, get their first day paperwork, and then they go.”

 

“Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.”Jughead murmured in mock interest with his chin perched heavily on a large, strong hand before putting his hands together in a dramatic prayer pose and pointing them at her to punctuate his next question: “And what is the food situation? Is there food?”

 

Betty stared at him for a moment with her mouth open in a half smile, waiting to see if his question was serious, and when she realized that it was because he hadn’t unlocked his gaze from hers since asking it, she replied, “Yes, there is food for the teachers. Usually when we have to stay after the school tries to provide food for us.” Mr. Jones smiled widely at this, and she hurried to clarify, “But it’s really nothing fancy. The school can’t afford much so it’s usually just pizza or burgers.” 

 

“Oh, Miss Cooper. Pizza and burgers is just about as fancy as this guy gets.”

 

She chuckled lightly, and bid him goodbye by saying, “Well then I guess I will be seeing you in the cafeteria at 5:30. That’s when the food should be set up.” Betty knew this because she was in charge of the committee that provided food for the teachers and any other events or meetings that required refreshment.

 

At 5:29, Mr. Jones strode into the cafeteria with his belt one notch too loose and his hands clasped in front of him, when he froze in his tracks. He saw Miss Betty Cooper holding a clipboard in her hand, a yellow pencil clutched between her pink glossy lips, scanning the document in front of her before removing the pencil to make a checkmark and then direct Veronica where to set the tray of burgers she was holding.

 

He couldn’t hear what she said, but recognized the melodic lilt of her voice over the din of noise in the cafeteria. All his other senses were overtaken by the sight of her in a light blue seersucker sundress that just brushed her knees, a white cardigan that hugged her waist in ways that made him wish for the first time that he had the same privileges as an article of clothing, and a pair of white Mary Jane heels that accentuated her calves in a manner much too sinful for such a seemingly innocuous body part.

 

He quickly snapped his open jaw shut when she did a double take in his direction, and he looked down in embarrassment too quickly to see how her eyes darkened when she saw him in his  _ very _ well-tailored suit. Her jaw went slack and then she thought she was going to melt on the spot when he reached up to nervously run his fingers through his inky black locks. It was the first time she had seen his hair without the beanie obstructing it and it was only as she was realizing so that she heard Veronica snapping her fingers in front of her face. 

 

“B! Earth to Betty! Can you please stop ogling the new counselor long enough to help me put all these bags of fries on this tray?” 

 

“V, shut up! Someone is going to hear you say that and that is how rumors get started around here!”

 

“Yeah...Rumors.” Veronica snorted before walking away mumbling about Betty being a useless horndog and how she doesn’t know “...why she doesn’t just go out and get laid like everyone else, I swear to God.”

 

Betty’s cheeks turned pink when Mr. Jones looked up at her as if he had heard their conversation, and with wide eyes and a tiny squeak, she turned on her heel to walk back to the kitchen where the rest of the food waited to be put out. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Jughead didn’t see Miss Cooper again until the end of the night, and he spent the entire open house cursing himself for staring and making her uncomfortable. He had assumed she was avoiding him when all the teachers had shown up and filled their plates and Miss Cooper was still nowhere to be seen, and after consuming his fill of burgers and fries (making sure that everyone else had plenty of chances to get seconds each time he devoured another meal), he had gotten completely caught up in the bustle of students and parents making their way through the school to meet everyone their children would be interacting with on a daily basis. 

 

Being the new counselor, none of these people knew him, and he did his best to pair each child’s name with their face as he met them, in addition to trying to remember at least one detail about each one to bring up when he next saw them.

 

The kids he had no problem with. He was tireless when it came to interacting with young people, probably due to his years shuffling JB from school to soccer to ballet, hosting sleepovers for her and her friends, and throwing birthday parties every year to make sure she had every privilege he had ever been denied.

 

The parents, however, were a different story. Jughead wanted to support the parents, having taken the role years ago himself, but their questions and suspicious glances at him were exhausting and he felt like he had been “on” all night. That is, for the ones who had shown up. Jughead couldn’t help but notice as he roamed the halls in the last half hour of the open house that there were very few people lingering in conversations with the teachers, and many folders full of first day paperwork still lay untouched on desks. 

 

Many teachers had even started packing up their own belongings and were just standing around outside their classrooms with bags on shoulders, waiting to be told they could leave. Jughead didn’t blame them. It had been at least a twelve hour work day for most of them, and they all wanted to enjoy their last weekend of freedom before school officially started.

 

When he reached the back hallway, his eye was instantly drawn to Miss Cooper, who stood outside her doorway, chatting animatedly with a parent about her plans for the curriculum, her hopes for a field trip this year, and promising that the student who stood clinging to his mother’s sleeve would have every one of his needs met in her class this year.

 

He stood unnoticed as they wrapped up their conversation, watching in awe as, after two hours of having this conversation over and over again, she seemed to have tailored it just for this student. Though many teachers were chomping at the bit to leave, Betty Cooper still stood on her perfectly white heels, beaming with energy to make sure that this parent would be comfortable sending her child to school on Monday. 

 

Finally, the woman shook Miss Cooper’s hand with both of hers, encouraged her child to say goodbye, and headed down the hallway. Jughead smiled and waved them goodnight as they walked by, and continued to watch as Miss Cooper turned around, let her shoulders slump, and slinked back into her classroom. 

 

He had loosened his tie long ago, his pants were wrinkled, and his pressed shirt had come half untucked throughout the course of the night, but he walked slowly to room 405 anyway and rapped gently on her open doorway. He noticed as her head snapped up that it had been buried in her hands, and he took a moment to take her in - shoes off, hair already whipped back into a ponytail somehow, and her cardigan strewn across the back of the chair she sat on - as she stood and shuffled around, attempting to regain her composure.

 

“Miss Cooper. It’s ok. Sit back down,” Jughead said gently, walking over to the student-sized desk where she had chosen to collapse. He pulled a chair from another one nearby so that he could sit and face her. She studied him cautiously for a moment, and then decided it was safe to keep her guard down and take her seat once again. Once she did, she seemed to breathe a heavy sigh of relief, and Jughead made a mental note to keep a special eye on Ms. Cooper. His job was to be here to support the teachers as well as the students, and there was no way they could do their jobs if they themselves were burned out.

 

But Betty Cooper seemed like the type to keep giving and giving until she had nothing left to give, and then give some more. He was surprised by the feeling he had of needing to protect her from that and so much else.

 

“How’d the open house go?”

 

He followed her hand with his eyes as she gestured around the room at about fifteen desks that still held the folders she’d been giving to her new students. She laughed humorlessly, and said, “I wasn’t expecting much, but it’s always a little disappointing when they can’t come in before the first day to get an idea of what they’ll be walking into. I just can’t imagine doing that alone, meeting new people, entering a new environment, trusting a new adult with your life with no one familiar there to support you…” She trailed off and he noticed that her eyes were glistening from exhaustion and...something else. Something sad. 

 

He wanted to reach his hand out to her nearby leg to offer her some comfort, but the last thing he wanted to do was make someone uncomfortable and potentially get fired before he had even started his new job. So he chose to maintain a professional distance and let Miss Cooper know that he was sure her students would be perfectly comfortable walking into her classroom because she was there to make it feel like they were at home. 

 

She beamed at him and he decided that he wanted to spend the rest of their time as coworkers trying to make her smile like that as many times as possible. He clapped his hands and stood up, indicating that it was time for them to head out. 

 

“Oh, I actually had a few more things I was going to prepare before Monday. I just wanted to make sure that --”

 

“Miss Cooper.” This time he didn’t hesitate to place his hand gently but firmly on her forearm to stop her from rambling any further. “You really should get home and take the weekend to recharge. If I’m not mistaken about you, I’m assuming you will be here at least an hour early on Monday and can get any last preparations done then. You should enjoy your last couple of days of Summer.”

 

Betty tried to be offended at his assumption that she would be here so early on Monday, but she’d be damned if he wasn’t right. Something about his grip on her arm and the authoritative tone he spoke with made her want to do exactly what he said. So she simply nodded, slipped her shoes back on, and started to gather her belongings into her crossbody bag.

 

“If you don’t mind waiting, I can just go grab by things and then I’ll walk you out.”

 

Betty was surprised, and insisted that he really didn’t have to do that, but he gave her that firm look again, and she couldn’t help but acquiesce. No sooner than he had disappeared around the corner was he back, and Betty, having locked her classroom door, fell into step beside him. 

 

He held the door at the end of the hall open for her and nearly went cross-eyed at the intoxicating scent that wafted from her as she walked by him with a demure “Thank you.” It was some kind of mixture of vanilla and something soft and floral. Not too sweet, but still feminine and lovely. 

 

Once he had assured that she was safely in her car with the door locked, he waved her off and once she disappeared onto the street and was out of sight, he began his walk all the way around the school building to the front parking lot where his motorcycle was parked.  

 

The redheaded P.E. teacher was exiting the building with Ms. Lodge as he rounded the corner of the front of the building, and he gave Jughead a confused look that seemed to ask… “Where the hell is he coming from?” Jughead just smiled politely and with a small wave, made his way to his car. He didn’t dare spare a glance at Ms. Lodge, who smirked knowingly as if she had no doubt why he was walking around the building instead of through the front doors because she knew exactly where Ms. Cooper parked her car.

 

Jughead made his way home, trying not to think about vanilla and blonde hair as he showered and then collapsed exhausted in his bed, where he had no control about the sights and smells that invaded his dreams, which kept his thoughts on one Miss Betty Cooper all weekend.


	3. Fatally Awkward

**Chapter 3 - Fatally Awkward**

 

Two weeks into the school year during her planning period, Betty looked up from her students’ writing journals when she heard the sound of knuckles against the metal doorframe of her classroom. She cracked a smile that reached all the way to her tired eyes when she saw that it was Mr. Jones who wanted to speak with her.

 

“Good afternoon, Miss Cooper. Quiet day today?”

 

“For once, yes. We spent most of the morning on a pre-assessment for the quarter and since then they’ve been busy with their writing journals. I can’t thank you enough for all your help this week, Mr. Jones.”

 

Betty had discovered her new class to be a particularly challenging one, with several competing personalities and behavior issues. Never one to be swayed, she had met each student’s struggles with firm authority and a soft heart, but some things had just been too much for her to handle on her own.

 

When it reached that point, she was thankful every time she saw the looming shadow behind her of Mr. Jones, all business, coming to take a student away for a lego break, a parent phone call, or just a conversation about expectations. They followed him to his office without argument every time, even though it was sometimes with slumped shoulders, tears, or stomping feet.

 

However, each time they returned to her with a sincere apology and a fresh attitude, at least for the rest of that day. Each new day brought its own challenges, and she was especially glad to have someone on her side.

 

“I wanted to come by and give you my personal cell phone number so that you don’t have to call the office to track me down every time you need a hand.”

 

Betty’s heart momentarily fluttered and she breathed a soft giggle until he continued on to say “I wish I had gotten it out to everyone sooner, but I’ve been pretty overwhelmed with getting to know the staff and all the kids.”

 

Her heart sank just a little, and then she paused to try and figure out just what it was that her hopes had been up for. She quickly masked her unexpected disappointment and confusion with her brightest trademark Betty Cooper smile, and handed him her phone with the keypad pulled up so he could save his number and then text himself so he could save hers. 

 

He handed it back to her with a smile and she gratefully accepted before asking if there were any questions he had for her about the school. She had only been there for one year prior, having taught in Philadelphia for her first few years, but it always helped to pick the brain of someone who knew the school.

“I think right now I’m just focused on getting to know the kids. I don’t want any of them to ever come to me with a problem and have to introduce themselves, you know? I want them to already trust me when they come in my office.” Mr. Jones looked determined and his eyes held a certain darkness as he spoke about his lofty self-expectations, and Betty’s heart melted at his devotion to the kids. 

 

Quicker than he had arrived, he stood back up and crossed the room in three long strides before turning back at the doorway and saying “You can always text me if you need anything, Miss Cooper. And I don’t just mean help with the kids. I mean you, too.” With that, he disappeared into the hallway and left Betty biting her plump bottom lip to stifle a grin, until she looked down at the contact he had saved.

 

**Jughead Jones**

 

And next to it, a crown emoji and a winking face.

Her grin broke free.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The next morning at the staff meeting, Betty was busy filling in her new planner with all the dates from the school’s calendar online, when she was distracted by a buzz next to her on the table. It wasn’t her rose gold iPhone that had vibrated, but Veronica’s pristine white one, and before the girl picked it up, Betty saw the name  **Jughead Jones** with a crown and a closed-eye smiley face next to it.

 

Betty’s lips turned to a slight pout and her brows furrowed before she turned her attention back to her task, her leg beginning to bounce nervously, and everything else Mr. Weatherbee said passing straight over her head as she tried to avoid glancing at the dark-haired and increasingly mysterious counselor.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Jughead tried to keep his focus on noting everything that Principal Weatherbee said, not wanting to zone out at his first staff meeting at a new school. However, he couldn’t help stealing glances around the room, and if he was being honest with himself, they usually ended up landing on the blonde ponytail of a particular fourth grade teacher who diligently scribbled away at her planner for the entire meeting, stopping occasionally to place a sticker peeled from the back page. 

 

He received an email on his school-issued laptop, which sat open in front of him, about a situation with a student in Ms. Lodge’s class, and he shot her a quick text to ask if she could drop by his office on her way back down to her classroom before the bell. As he watched to see if she received it (Okay, maybe he also had one eye on the girl next to his target), he noticed a shift in Ms. Cooper’s demeanor when she glanced down at the table next to her.

 

Jughead’s face mirrored hers after an instant, and he wondered what he had done to warrant that kind of response to seeing his name on Ms. Lodge’s phone. His mind quickly flipped through the few short interactions they had had during the week since he gave her his phone number. He couldn’t remember anything out of the ordinary, but maybe he had unintentionally stepped on her toes with his comment about texting if she needed something - anything. 

 

He decided he wouldn’t panic until he had a chance to feel out the situation with Ms. Cooper and then determine if action should be taken. He filed it away in the constant triage of issues to track and to-do lists to complete in his brain, and focused his attention back on the topic of the meeting: emergency drill procedure.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was finally Friday, and though Jughead strove not to be one of those “working for the weekend” types, he was definitely grateful for this one. He’d had a hell of a week, contacting social services twice for concerns with a student, and comforting and encouraging no less than four crying, overwhelmed teachers in his office. 

 

As he made his morning rounds through the hallways to greet everyone, he got to the back hall and somehow it seemed brighter than all the other hallways. Then, he realized that Miss Cooper stood outside her room greeting students with the cheeriest smile he had ever seen, a neat topknot on her head, a sunny yellow cardigan, and a pair of bootcut jeans that fit her just right until they barely skimmed the tops of her white keds. 

 

She looked exactly how Friday felt, and Jughead couldn’t help but smile, despite the fact that his coffee still sat mostly full on his desk getting cold. 

 

“Good morning, Miss Cooper! You certainly look sunny for the end of the week,” he said with a teasing smirk, and didn’t register the slight falter in her perfect smile before it was back in place and reaching her eyes once more.

 

“Good morning, Mr. Jones! You look...well, like the end of the week,” she responded with a good natured grimace at her gentle insult. It was true, though, that his eyes held heavy bags under them and his hair looked like it had been run through by his long fingers several times already that morning.

 

“Yeah, well, I tend to be the most popular guy in school with all these teachers being so needy for my help,” Jughead attempted as a joke, but he realized it fell flat when Miss Cooper’s smile did a full one-eighty before it was replaced by one that didn’t nearly reach her bright green eyes.

 

“I’m just kidding, Miss Cooper. You know I’m always here for anything you need.”

 

“Yes, right. Well I have to start checking homework. See you ‘round,” she finished with a small, uncomfortable wave before disappearing into her classroom amongst a chorus of “Miss Cooper! Miss Cooper!”

 

“Fuck.” Jughead muttered, startling himself as he glanced around nervously to see if any little ears could’ve picked up his curse. Breathing a sigh of relief when he saw no tiny stunned expressions or scandalized giggles, he continued the rest of the way around the building until he was back in his office to sip his lukewarm coffee and brood about how fatally awkward he was.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Later that afternoon, Betty stretched out in the sun next to Veronica as they tanned by the pool at the Pembrooke. She glared unceasingly from behind her Ray-ban knock-offs as she sipped the margarita handed to her by Andre. It had taken Betty a while to get used to being waited on at Veronica’s, but Veronica insisted that Andre made more money than both of the teachers combined, so Betty didn’t really pity him anymore.

 

Veronica went on and on about Archie’s ongoing commitment issues, while Betty steeped over her interaction with Mr. Jones that morning. She had managed to avoid him the rest of the day, handling a particularly rough argument between two students on her own, and then hiding out in the copy room preparing for the next week during her planning period. She even managed to slip in the bathroom when she saw him sauntering toward her down the hallway as she walked to check her mailbox in the office.

 

The comment he had made had simply rubbed her the wrong way. Betty had been so grateful for his help and he’d called her needy right to her face. If he didn’t want to help her, then why the hell had he given her his damn number in the first place? She should’ve known that a reliable replacement for Mrs. Martinez was too good to be true.

 

She stopped brooding over her margarita long enough to set it down and turn over, wanting to tan evenly in the last few rays August had to offer before September brought golden leaves and cool breezes that signaled fall, her favorite season.

 

As soon as Betty was on her stomach and settled in, Veronica reached over and popped the strap of her black and white polka dot bikini.

 

“Ouch! What is wrong with you, V?!”

 

“You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said! You know how I know? Because I just asked you if you thought I should given Archie an ultimatum and you didn’t even say anything! What is with you this afternoon, B?”

 

“Ugh, sorry, V. I’m just really irritated about something Mr. Jones said today.”

 

“Ooh, going head to head with the hot new counselor? Do fill me in.” Veronica looked like a kid who had just seen a candy truck crashed in front of his house and the streets were flooded with Kit-Kats. The girl loved her gossip, and their elementary school was teeming with it. Betty swore that the adults had even more drama than their students.

 

“It’s really nothing, V. I’m sure it will get straightened out on Monday.”

 

As if she had spoken a prophecy, her phone buzzed inside her Kate Spade bag (a gift from the Lodges, obviously). She pursed her lips when she saw the name  **Jughead Jones** on her screen (emojis removed out of sheer pettiness), but her expression softened just slightly when she read its contents: “Can we talk Monday? I’ll be in my office at 8. Hope to see you there, Miss Cooper.” 

 

Suddenly, despite her excitement for the weekend, Betty found herself looking forward to Monday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and interact with me on tumblr @theladylabyrinth


	4. Conflict Resolution

**Chapter 4 - Conflict Resolution**

 

Betty had spent all weekend talking to herself about what would go down with Mr. Jones come Monday morning. She insisted to herself that she keep calm and hear him out, because she has a tendency to be a little reactionary and it was probably innocent. However, she also reminded herself that she was Betty Fucking Cooper, daughter of Alice “Dragon Lady” Cooper, who could handle anything that came her way, and that if he didn’t want to help her, then she didn’t need his help anyway.

 

Tensions ran high in her one bedroom apartment.

 

Come Monday morning, she had worked herself up into such a tizzy that she woke up at 5 am, thirty minutes before her alarm was to go off, and she hopped out of bed to give herself a little extra time to enjoy a cup of tea to relax her nerves and to apply her eyeliner just a little sharper than she usually did. 

 

Wide awake and buzzing with both excited and nervous anticipation, she marched into Mr. Jones’ office at precisely 8:05 (Betty had had to force herself to sit in her classroom for five minutes, watching the clock tick, just to make him sweat a little; all the while berating herself because there was no way he cared this much.)

 

She stepped into his office with her chin held high, and a “Good morning Mr. Jones,” that held just a hint of ice on the edge of her usual sweet tone. 

 

She noticed that he looked hugely relieved that she had showed up, his shoulders relaxing when he saw her, and he breathed “Good morning, Miss Cooper,” on a heavy sigh. She also noticed that two venti starbucks cups sat on his desk, and she eyed it suspiciously before cutting her eyes to him.

 

“Oh! Right. Um, I got this for you. I don’t know how you take it, but I noticed there was almond milk in the teachers’ lounge refrigerator that had your name on it, so I thought you might like an almond milk latte. But you don’t have to drink it..if you don’t like that. Or want to. I understand.”

 

Still looking suspicious at his kind gesture and unusual knowledge of her milk preferences (after all, she had come in prepared to eviscerate him if necessary), she thanked him with a half smile and wrapped her soft pink lips around the lid before taking a light sip of foam and closing her eyes as the hot liquid warmed her chest from the inside out. 

 

When she opened them, Mr. Jones was staring at her with his mouth open like a trout and a look in his eyes that Betty couldn’t quite identify, but that made her slightly uncomfortable. So she gathered her composure after the spiritual experience that was that sip of coffee, and decided to get right down to business.

 

“So, Mr. Jones. What did you need from me this morning?”

 

“What did I need? Right. What did I need. Well, I spoke with Donte Friday afternoon and when I asked him how his day went, he told me he got in a fight with Anderson in your class.”

 

“I wouldn’t call it a fight, it was more of a heated spat that became mildly physical.”

 

“Riiiight….” Mr. Jones seemed like he was having trouble saying what it was he had asked her here for, and Betty started tapping her leg before raising an eyebrow, impatiently prompting him to continue. “So, I guess it just surprised me because normally I would’ve known about something like that going on in your room. And I guess I was wondering why you didn’t text me.”

 

“I’m perfectly capable of handling a disagreement between students on my own, Mr. Jones. I went to college just like you.”

 

Mr. Jones shifted in his seat, and Betty decided to tone down the attitude, because he was clearly uncomfortable and she wasn’t making it any better by being petty. To help him out, she went on to say, “Mr. Jones. It’s fine. We got along fine here last year with a counselor who hardly did her job, and it’s not fair of us, me included, to expect you to come running every time we need a little conflict resolution.”

 

“That’s not how I want it to be, Miss Cooper,” he spoke more firmly than she’d expected. Suddenly all traces of discomfort were gone and his eyes held the same determined look they had held when he spoke to her about getting to know the students the week before. “I don’t want your expectations of me to be that low, and I want you to be able to count on me to be there for you and for them when you need me.”

 

At that, all of the bitchiness Betty had worked up for the past couple of days left her, and her eyes softened as her face melted into a genuine smile for the first time since Friday morning. She reached out to where his hand rested on his desk, placed her palm over his rough fingers, and said, “Mr. Jones, you have exceeded the expectations already of everyone here. I can’t have a conversation with a teacher in this building without your name coming up in the same sentence as the word ‘superhero’ or ‘saint’. The students love you and I can already tell how much of an impact you’ve made here. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

 

If Betty didn’t know any better, she would’ve said she saw tears brimming in Mr. Jones’ eyes, and he looked at her with the most open and vulnerable expression she had ever seen on his face. 

 

“It was just an ill-timed joke after a difficult week, Miss Cooper. I would hate to think that there was a time when you needed me and didn’t call or text just because I had been an ass on a bad day. Please tell me that I don’t need to worry about that moving forward, because I have enough on my plate,” he implored her with an impish smile.

 

Betty smiled sweetly and promised that he needn’t worry before thanking him for the almond milk latte -- which she informed him was her favorite -- and heading back to her classroom to prepare for the day.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After Miss Cooper exited his office (much bouncier than she had entered, he observed gratefully), he closed his door and re-read the message on his phone again.

 

**JB**

_ I know you’re getting my texts, Jughead. Please, if I don’t get the money by the end of the month, I’ll be kicked out of my apartment. Can you really live with a homeless sister on your conscience? _

 

The tears that had brimmed when Ms. Cooper had assured him that he was making an impact spilled over his cheeks and he wiped them away before they had a chance to make his eyes red or puffy, opting instead to squeeze the living shit out of a stress ball he kept around for the kids, before throwing it as hard as he could at the opposite wall.

 

He quickly deleted the message before it could cause him anymore turmoil and turned to his computer to get some paperwork done as a distraction. His sister had made her bed despite everything he had done and sacrificed for her, and every warning he had given, and now she was going to lie in it. That’s how he had eventually become successful, after all. They don’t call it tough love for nothing.

All traces of his anger were vanquished when his phone buzzed next to his mouse pad and he looked down to see 

 

**Betty Cooper**

 

Next to which he had added a pink flower emoji and a sunshine.

 

When he opened the message from her, he smiled. It contained a photo of the backs of two children seated next to each other, and he recognized them as Donte and Anderson, who had been fighting just the week before. They appeared to be making progress on a 3D puzzle, and the caption read:

_ I guess you’re not the only one with A+ conflict resolution skills _

 

He beamed with pride, and just to quell any remaining anxiety, texted her back that he hoped that didn’t mean he was out of a job.

 

_ “Definitely not - couldn’t do any of this without you.”  _ came her reply and he breathed a sigh of relief before shoving off the arms of his desk chair and setting off down the hall to greet the school day with just a little more pep in his step than usual.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That afternoon, Betty shoveled the last bite of her sugar free vanilla yogurt in her mouth as she made her way down the hall to pick up her students from lunch. 

 

She normally had enough time to eat her lunch in the short 25 minute period she had, but today she couldn’t help but keep getting distracted thinking about her morning. Nothing about it had gone wrong at all. In fact, she had truly been on her game, and her students had been engaged in the lesson she’d planned, which essentially made her feel like a rock star.

 

But what had her distracted was the fact that after Mr. Jones did his regular morning check-in during arrival, he had stopped by to do three more laps of her classroom throughout the morning. Each time she smiled up at him gratefully, making sure to indicate with her eyes that all was well. She felt incredibly guilty for the third degree she had given him about the joke he made, and she was determined to let him know in the future that he was very much needed and appreciated.

 

All these thoughts flew out of her head as she turned the corner into the cafeteria and saw the lunch assistant looking at her with her shoulders shrugged and a confused, apologetic look on her face. Betty turned to look at her class, sitting at the first table and quickly counted no less than eight children in tears. Alarmed, she glared back at the assistant again, who clearly had no explanation for this sudden emotional carnage, and resigned herself to be resolving whatever this was for most of her afternoon. 

 

Once she had everyone lined up down the hallway for a bathroom break (one third of her class was on the floor at this point), she frantically pulled her cell phone from the pocket hidden between the folds of her skirt and shot off a text to Mr. Jones that read simply “ _ SOS - emotional turmoil.” _

 

She started with the obvious pairs who seemed to be having issues with each other to begin combing through whatever conflict had arisen somehow in the twenty-five minutes since she’d left them. Before she could even make out anything they said between their sobs, Mr. Jones strode around the corner with huge steps, seeming a little out of breath, and stopping with his hands on his hips.

 

From her position kneeling on the floor, Betty gaped up at Mr. Jones and suddenly the thought crossed her mind that he should be wearing a cape, and it almost seemed like there was a strong breeze blowing the black curl that fell just slightly in front of his eyes. Her eyes were wide and a little frazzled from the sudden onslaught of emotions to be teased out, and she breathed out a sigh of relief that came out as a quiet laugh/sob type of noise. 

 

“What seems to be the trouble here, Miss Cooper?” he said in a friendly voice as he surveyed the damage.

 

Betty just started frantically rambling off to him the sequence of events that she’d been a part of since she picked them up from lunch, and he realized that she had no idea what the cause of any of this was, so he gently placed his hand on her upper arm and softly said “Miss Cooper. It’s ok. I’ve got it.”

 

“OK everybody, let’s go to my office and hash this out!” Mr. Jones called with a wave of his hand, and eight crying nine-year-olds followed him up the hallway like ducklings to work out their feelings.

 

Over the next half hour or so, the students who had been crying began trickling back into her room, one or two at a time, and some of them were even holding hands and laughing. All Betty could do was watch and marvel at the speed and effectiveness that Mr. Jones had when dealing with these children and their very real, very raw emotions. She made a mental note to thank him later and remind him how essential he was here.

 

She got the feeling that Mr. Jones was the type who gave and gave until he couldn’t give anymore, and then kept giving. And suddenly she felt an overwhelming need to support him because something told her that he had a very personal reason for being so dedicated, and she became determined to make sure that he knew that he was appreciated. 

 

Before the eighth and final student had arrived back to her classroom, Betty Cooper had concocted a plan. After all, if there was anything that the Cooper women were better at than holding their ground when challenged, it was baked goods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The latter part of this story is based on true events if it seems totally out of left field.   
> Please Enjoy and comment!!!


	5. Cupcakes and Concussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me for any inaccuracies, as my medical knowledge about concussions is severely lacking. I mostly just wanted some fluff.

**Chapter 5 - Cupcakes and Concussions**

 

**Tuesday**

Jughead walked into school the next day feeling a little sluggish after a long night of talking to his drunk baby sister on the phone to make sure she didn’t do anything that she would truly regret. He may be tough on her but he still loved her enough not to let her completely ruin her life. He had stayed on the line with her long enough to make sure that she passed out on her friend’s couch, and then hit the sack for a restless few hours of sleep.

 

He did not feel at all ready to deal with Southside Elementary’s many problems today, but duty called and so he answered. If the most he could do for his sister was make sure she didn’t drive drunk or choke on her own vomit, at least he could do some good in someone else’s life. 

 

He took his normal route through the office to greet the administrative staff, then stopped at his mailbox where he was shocked to see a plastic plate covered in aluminum foil. His brow furrowed, and he pulled the plate out to lift the foil and there he found a dozen of the most delectable-looking strawberry cupcakes he had ever seen. Each one was perfectly swirled with fluffy meringue buttercream and topped with a strawberry that sat just right to keep the foil from ruining the frosting. 

 

Jughead looked around as if he might find some evidence as to who had gifted him this treat - a head poking around a corner like an arsonist who returned to the scene, or a note dropped on the floor - but he saw no one and nothing, so he pulled out a cupcake and shoved half of it in his mouth (he had only had cereal for breakfast, after all). His legs nearly failed him when he tasted the perfectly fluffy cake and the frosting that melted in his mouth. He polished off the rest of the cupcake and popped the juiciest strawberry he had ever tasted in his mouth to top it off. By the time the first bell rang, he had finished half of the plate, and decided he would save the rest for a mid-afternoon pick-me-up.

 

They didn’t make it to lunch.

 

**Wednesday**

Betty arrived to work a half hour earlier than usual again to make sure that she beat Mr. Jones to his mailbox. Today, she left him a plate of a half dozen key lime cupcakes with cheesecake mousse filling and raspberry buttercream, topped with a fresh raspberry. Again, she had folded the aluminum foil in a perfect origami that rested just atop the raspberries to keep the frosting flawless, and she scurried away to her classroom with a mischievous grin. 

 

Mr. Jones walked by her classroom that morning on his regular rounds, and she let out a veracious giggle at the sight of him. He stopped in his tracks and self-consciously touched his face and nervously ran his hand through his hair, trying to figure out what Miss Cooper was laughing at. 

 

She daintily lifted her finger to the corner of her mouth, where she tapped her finger twice. She giggled again at the blush that rose from his shirt collar and burned his ears as he smirked sheepishly and scraped the pink frosting from the corner of his mouth. 

 

Betty’s laughter subsided, however, when Mr. Jones popped his finger into his mouth to suck off the offending frosting, and suddenly she was stunned into silence. All she could do was gape at his lips wrapped around his long, capable-looking finger until she heard “Miss Cooper!” shouted from inside her classroom. She shook herself out of it and turned toward the tiny voice that needed her, but not before she caught the playful smirk of Mr. Jones.

 

_ Shit. _ She thought.  _ He knows exactly what he just did to me. _

 

**Thursday**

 

Whoever was leaving Jughead these cupcakes had stepped it up a notch every day - Okay, probably more like three notches.

 

Today, he walked into the office with much more speed than he ever had, anxious to find out what kind of goodies he had been graced with today. 

 

Each cupcake on the plate looked like a miniature ice cream sundae. He took a bite of the first one, and in the middle of the moist devil’s food chocolate cake, he found a thick fudge filling. The vanilla buttercream that sat on top had been dipped in melted chocolate, which dripped down the sides. On top of that was a dollop of whipped cream with sprinkles and a bright red cherry on top.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For today’s cupcakes, Betty had had to do a little sleuthing. She had used the front copy room so that she could keep an eye on the mailboxes all Wednesday morning. If she was going to go all out on the ice cream sundae cupcakes, she had to make sure that she got them in at just the right time so that the whipped cream didn’t melt. 

 

She had stayed in the copy room for 35 minutes, copying everything she would need for the next several weeks in order to spy on the mailroom. At exactly 7:55, Mr. Jones walked in and she watched him through the small window in the door as he savored her cakes. She beamed with pride, but made sure to divert her eyes when he headed toward the door.

 

At 7:50 on Thursday, Betsy snuck down the hallway, keeping her eyes on the front door the whole way so that she could duck into a classroom if Mr. Jones walked in. She crept into the mailroom, slipped the cupcakes into his box, and then grabbed her mail as fast as she could to walk out so that she wouldn’t look too suspicious should she run into him.

 

Later that morning, she stopped to use the bathroom that was located in the same small side hallway as his office, and she saw that eight of the dozen sundae cupcakes were long gone, and the rest sat wilting on the plate. She smirked, knowing that they wouldn’t last much longer anyway.

 

**Friday**

 

Jughead practically skipped through the office to the mailroom, wondering how his mysterious cake fairy could possibly top yesterday’s confection. He was incredibly disappointed when he got to his box and he found nothing there. 

 

His face fell dramatically into a pout and he snatched his mail from his box before slinking off to his office to drink his coffee and listen to his stomach growl. He really shouldn’t have been counting on those cupcakes for breakfast. 

 

He reluctantly got up to make his morning rounds to greet the students and faculty, doing his best to appear chipper despite his intense sugar craving. He rounded the corner to the fourth grade hallway, and not even the sight of the sunny blonde standing outside the door of room 405 could bring him out of his funk.

 

He paused to wish her good morning anyway, and she couldn’t help but comment on his foul mood.

 

“Mr. Jones, what’s got you down in the dumps on this fine Friday morning?” 

 

Miss Cooper’s eyes glistened knowingly, but all Jughead grumbled back was, “Didn’t have time for breakfast.”

 

“Well, I always have snacks around. Let me see if I can scrounge something up for you.”

 

Miss Cooper disappeared into her classroom, leaving Jughead to brood over what barely-there, processed kids’ snack he would have to stomach for breakfast this morning. However, his brooding turned to confusion and shock when she emerged with the biggest homemade apple pie he had ever seen placed on her delicate hands. The top was a crisp golden brown, the slits in the top absolutely perfect, and the fluted edges a true work of art. Steam still rose from the top, and Jughead leaned forward to breathe in the heavenly scent as he closed his eyes.

 

When he was done admiring this delectable creation, he looked up at her through his eyelashes from his place bent over the pie.

 

“It was you.”

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jones?” Betty replied innocently.

 

“You baked the cupcakes, didn’t you? The strawberry, the key lime, the sundaes? Miss Cooper, how on earth did you possibly have the time to do that after school, and what on earth did I do to deserve them?”

 

“I told you I couldn’t do my job without you Mr. Jones, and I was a little hard on you Monday. You really are so devoted to the kids and to the teachers, and I felt like you deserved a little acknowledgement.” 

 

Jughead’s eyes shone as he thanked Miss Cooper profusely, and he practically raced back to his office, pie in hand, where he devoured it in its entirety before sitting back with his hands behind his head and closing his eyes to picture beautiful green eyes.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jughead passed under the awning between the cafeteria and the main hallway that afternoon, leading him right past the playground where he had known that fourth grade would be at recess. He paused for a moment when he saw Miss Cooper on the basketball court, guarding Donte from making a shot. She swiped to the side just as she shot the ball, and made a huge show of how he had dodged her to make the basket. He chuckled softly from the short distance, and kept watching as the kids continued their game with Miss Cooper.

 

He was just thinking about how amazing she was with the kids, when a football from the field nearby went awry. Jughead sprang into action before the football made contact, but he couldn’t make it to her in time to stop the blow. She stumbled a few steps forward to keep herself from falling, and her hand automatically went to the back of her head as she cried out in pain.

 

A few seconds later, Jughead was on the court and caught her in his arms just as she failed to catch herself. The kids tried to crowd around to see if Miss Cooper was ok, and Jughead encouraged them to give her space as the other teachers rushed over to assist with keeping the kids clear of Miss Cooper’s head injury. 

 

“Miss Cooper! Miss Cooper! Can you hear me?” He half-dragged her to the bench under the tree by the court, her feet barely helping to propel her forward. He laid her down and started peppering her with questions to make sure she was coherent.

 

“Miss Cooper, do you know where you are?”

 

Her eyes blinked open slowly and she responded, “I’m..at recess?”

 

“Yes, you are. Do you know who I am?”

 

“I know who you are. You’re Mr. Jones,” she responded again groggily and..was that a hint of a smile when she said his name?

 

“Ok, Miss Cooper, I’m going to help you get inside and we’re going to have the nurse check you out. Ok?”

 

“Ok, Mr. Jones.”

 

“Ok.” Jughead assessed the situation uneasily, and finally decided that trying to help her walk might be the best idea. However, once he got her on her feet, her legs appeared to be made of jelly and she clearly couldn’t hold herself up. He looked around at the audience that had gathered, thought  _ fuck it _ and scooped her up into his arms, suddenly grateful that she had worn leggings that day instead of a dress.

 

He instructed Ms. Lodge to notify the office over the walkie talkie that Miss Cooper had a head injury and they were on their way to see the nurse. Students opened the doors for him as he walked through the building, all the while talking to Miss Cooper to make sure she was still awake. He asked her to describe all the cupcakes she had given him, where she had gotten the recipes, and listened as she explained how she altered her mom’s apple pie recipe purely out of spite. He chuckled at her tenacity despite the head injury just as he made his way through the office door.

 

Finally in the nurse’s office, he settled her onto the paper-covered cot, sitting on the edge next to her while the nurse examined Miss Cooper’s pupils and asked her some of the same questions Jughead had earlier. 

 

Miss Cooper groaned quietly and her hand felt around blindly as if she were looking for something to hold. Jughead felt his stomach drop and heart skip a beat at the same time, and after hesitating for a moment, he put his hand in the path of hers and she instantly tucked them together. He squeezed hers lightly to let her know that he was there and she was going to be ok. 

 

The nurse looked at Jughead as she placed an ice pack underneath her head and asked him to stay with her for the next thirty minutes and keep her from falling asleep, as she suspected that Miss Cooper had a concussion. She also informed him that he should notify her if Miss Cooper vomited. At that, she left the room before Jughead could panic or ask any questions, and he turned back to see Miss Cooper staring bewildered at the ceiling before exclaiming, “Wait, did she just say vomit?!”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Betty had no idea how she got there, but as she stared up at the ceiling of the nurse’s office, she could vaguely make out the words “concussion” and “vomit”. Before she could stop herself, she exclaimed “Wait, did she just say vomit?!” and only once she heard the deep boom of laughter next to her did she realize who else was in the room with her.

 

Suddenly, she became aware of a heavy, warm weight in her hand and the smell of leather and sandalwood that surrounded her. The thing in her hand wove itself between her fingers and she realized it was a hand - Oh god. That laugh. The smell. She was holding Mr. Jones’ hand. What the  _ hell _ happened?

 

Finally, her eyes managed to focus on his face and he looked down at her with an expression of amusement, tinged with just a little worry. She asked Mr. Jones the question at the front of her mind, and he told her that she had been playing basketball at recess when a stray football had beaned her right in the back of the head.

 

Realization dawned on Betty suddenly, and she practically shouted, “OH my god, my class! Where are they? Who has them? They have to go to lunch!”

 

She didn’t realize she had tried to sit up until the eye-popping pain hit her, along with a wave of dizziness and nausea. She groaned miserably as two strong, warm hands gently pressed her shoulders back down to the cot and then reached around her to readjust the ice pack behind her head, all while cooing softly, “It’s ok, Miss Cooper. Your class is covered and everything is taken care of. You have to stay here and rest until the nurse makes sure you’re ok - but...don’t fall asleep.”

 

Betty still looked concerned, but she obviously had resigned herself to laying on this cot, and it didn’t hurt that Mr. Jones’ hands now both enveloped hers completely and were rubbing gently to reassure that he had everything under control. Betty suddenly felt exhausted and very ok with the idea of handing control over to Mr. Jones for a while. She let her eyelids flutter shut, and then whined like an impatient child being woken up on a Sunday for church when those hands that had brought her comfort just a moment ago patted her cheek harshly to keep her awake.

 

“Sorry, Miss Cooper, I’ve been given strict orders to keep you awake.” Mr. Jones had a bit of a twinkle in his eye and that playful smirk was back on his lips, prompting her to pout at him for getting any enjoyment out of her current predicament.

 

After continuing their banter (which was a little groggy and incoherent on Betty’s part) for the next half hour or so, the nurse returned and had Betty sit up to drink a small cup of water and try standing up and walking around. She was a little wobbly at first, but Mr. Jones held one arm around her waist to keep her from falling, and the other he held out for her to hold onto. As Betty regained her land legs, she focused more and more on the muscles that rippled around her and the warmth of the chest that she used to support herself. 

 

Just as she lost herself again in his smell, Veronica came bursting through the door. 

 

“Oh my god, B, I thought the final bell would never ring. I’ve been so worried about you. Are you ok? Let me look at you.”

 

Veronica looked at Betty’s eyes and examined the knot on the back of her head, asked her some questions, and watched her walk in a circle before she decided she was satisfied with her recovery thus far. Then, her attention turned to the man who stood protectively nearby, looking ready to spring into action should Betty have another dizzy spell. 

 

Veronica’s eyes darted between the two as an evil smirk grew on her face. As if to prove her point, Betty rolled her eyes and the action threw off her balance again. She lunged to catch herself on the cot, and Mr. Jones was there in an instant with an arm around her to steady her, and the other grasping her hand. Betty glared up at Veronica, who stood with her arms crossed, smirking even more deeply than before, before stating, “Veronica Lodge can take it from here, Mr. Jones. It seems you’ve done quite enough for Miss Cooper this afternoon.”

 

Betty continued glaring a death stare at Veronica as Mr. Jones nervously rubbed the back of his neck and requested that Betty keep him posted on how she is throughout the weekend. Betty promised she would, and as Veronica lead her out of the office, she mumbled, “Oh, I bet you will, B,” earning herself a hard elbow to her ribs. Veronica just responded with a cackle, and Mr. Jones stood frozen as he watched the two exit and tried to figure out exactly what had just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and follow me on tumblr at @theladylabyrinth!


	6. 6. Jughead and Gearhead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since an update, but I've had a bit of writer's block. Thank you so much for all the support I've received for this story!

**Chapter 6 - Gearhead and Jughead**

 

Monday rolled around to find Betty fully recovered and coherent, with just a slight, discolored bump on the back of her head. Veronica had insisted that she stay at the Pembrooke all weekend to be waited on and cared for, and after stopping by Betty’s apartment to pick up the necessities, Andre drove them home where Betty was doted on all weekend. 

 

Betty would have been on cloud 9 had it not been for Veronica waking her up every hour through Friday and Saturday night to check her pupils and ask her ridiculous questions. Thankfully, she never did throw up and Veronica allowed her an uninterrupted night’s sleep before school on Monday.

 

Mr. Jones had texted Betty before bed on Friday night, as well as a few times throughout Saturday and Sunday to check on her progress. Each time Betty got a notification, Veronica was at her shoulder hoping to see who it was from. But thankfully Betty was quick and never let V see the caring messages she was receiving from her personal hero, Mr. Jones.

 

Betty had asked Veronica to recount the details of her accident on the way back to the Pembrooke on Friday, and Veronica spared no dramatics in filling Betty in on Mr. Jones’ quick and capable actions. Betty rolled her eyes but couldn’t help a smirk as she remembered being held in his arms and his gentle caresses on her hands as she rested in the nurse’s office. He really had been very capable and caring with her, and she couldn’t hold back a little swoon as Veronica described how he had hovered over her to catch her when she stumbled after her eye rolling at V’s taunting.

 

On Monday morning, Betty had allowed herself a little more time than usual to get ready, considering that she already had her copies ready after her cupcake sleuthing the previous week. Andre drove her back to her apartment to get her car before she headed to school, and being later than usual, she found all the back parking spots empty and was forced to park in the front of the school, crossing her fingers that she wouldn’t get caught in carpool traffic that afternoon.

 

In a twist of fate, her bad luck that morning turned out to be good luck for Mr. Jones, who stood at the front bumper of his car at 4:00, hood up, hands on hips, and brow furrowed. Betty smiled fondly at the way he grumbled helplessly before she walked over and offered, “Need a hand, Mr. Jones?”

 

He seemed startled at her voice, but when he realized who it was offering help, his eyes softened and he smiled warmly. Before acknowledging her offer, he asked how she was feeling and made sure everything was in line with her health after Friday’s incident, which he had spent all weekend worrying over.

 

She assured him that she was feeling just fine after some Lodge-style TLC, and meanwhile set down her school bag and rolled up the sleeves of her white cotton tunic dress. He barely had time to register what was happening before she had him shoved gently to the side and began tweaking and inspecting things under the hood. 

 

“What is it exactly that’s giving you trouble? Besides the fact that this belt needs to be replaced.”

 

As she spoke, she continued her inspection and Jughead just watched her tiny, meticulous hands as they became more and more blackened. He didn’t realize that he was staring open-mouthed and with utter confusion until she turned her head to look up at him, waiting for an answer to her inquiry.

 

“Mr. Jones? What seems to be the problem?” Betty tried again, trying not to smirk at his obvious shock that she knew a single iota about the mechanical mess under his hood.

 

“I...I…,” he stammered, as Betty straightened and cocked her hip out, raising an eyebrow expectantly as her amusement deepened.

 

“You...know cars?” he finally croaked out, and kicked himself for sounding like such an idiot.

 

Betty giggled voraciously, “Yes, Mr. Jones. I know cars. Now as much as I’m enjoying that look on your face, I’d really like to get home at some point tonight so what is it that’s giving you trouble?”

 

“Right, sorry. I just...I took off toward home and before I could make it to the intersection, it just started jerking and I couldn’t drive faster than 20 mph without it jolting and going crazy. That’s bad, right?”

 

Betty chuckled before responding, “Well, it’s definitely not good.”

 

“Right,” Mr. Jones answered sheepishly. “Can you fix it?”

 

“Well, it could be a number of things, but hopefully it will be something simple. And cheap. When was the last time your fuel filter was replaced?”

 

Jughead placed his hand on his chin and thought a moment before responding, “Let’s see...The car was made in 1995, I’ve had it since 2008, and in that time the fuel filter has been changed...never.”

 

Betty’s jaw dropped. “Well, then I’m willing to bet that that’s our problem.”

 

She let the hood fall shut before gathering her things back up and heading towards her car.

 

“Wait...where are you going? Is it fixed?” Jughead stood rooted to the spot, his brain still catching up to the fact that this beautiful, delicate blonde was a hardcore grease monkey.

 

“What do you think, Mr. Jones?" she replied sarcastically before giggling light-heartedly at the blush that colored his cheeks. "Come on, we need to go to the parts store. I think there’s one a couple miles away and we’re losing daylight.” Betty climbed in the driver’s seat of her Prius, and Mr. Jones finally snapped out of his reverie to grab his wallet and keys as he rushed to the passenger side of her tiny car.

 

He climbed in and his senses were immediately overtaken by the delicate smell of wildflowers and the sound of Betty Who coming from her speakers. He recognized her as one of Jellybean’s favorite Indie artists and he shook his head to remove that thought from his head until later when he was alone and instead let himself be distracted by the words to the song for several minutes until Ms. Cooper’s voice broke through his thoughts once again.

 

“Forsythe, huh?”

 

Jughead’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, as he could think of only one reason that name came out of Betty’s mouth, and he gaped at her trying to figure out how on Earth she could have possibly discovered his real name, when she gestured to his lap. He looked down and was face to face with his own ridiculous mug with “Forsythe Jones” printed clear as day below it. 

 

_ Damn. _ He cursed himself as he let his eyes close and enjoy the last moment before inevitable laughter ensued, unable to believe what an idiot he had been to be distracted enough by Betty Cooper that he had let his own secret out. He cracked one eye open and peeked at Ms. Cooper to see why she wasn’t giggling incessantly at the ridiculous name.

 

“What?” She looked at him, amused once again at his obvious embarrassment, as they sat parked in front of the parts store. “Come on, Mr. Jones. It’s not that bad. My real name is Elizabeth and I hate it, which is why I go by Betty. And I’m assuming based on your reaction that you don’t go by Forsythe. So, what do your friends call you?”

 

Jughead smirked playfully before responding, “Ms. Cooper, it’s kind of you to assume that I have friends.” He was spurred on by her soft giggle to say, “Most people call me Jughead.”

 

She stopped giggling to look at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was serious or not. When she decided that he was, she bit back her laughter to nod firmly and repeat, “Jughead. It suits you.”

 

He smiled and ducked his head to rub nervously at the back of his neck until he realized that she was already halfway out of the car, and he scrambled to follow, slipping his wallet in his back pocket as he rushed ahead of her to grab the door before she could place her hand on it. She thanked him sweetly before striding confidently into the parts store, which smelled like plastic and a mixture of some chemicals that Jughead didn’t recognize. 

 

Ms. Cooper strutted right up to the counter, where a rather roughed-up looking man sat on a stool, cleaning his fingernails with a pocket knife. Betty cleared her throat, causing him to look up with disinterest, offer her a kind smile, and then transfer his gaze straight to Jughead, where it remained as the man asked “What can I do for you?”

 

“Uh...Uh...I…,” Jughead stammered helplessly, before looking at Betty, who glared directly at the parts employee with a scowl that would have had the man on the floor several times over if looks could only kill. He gulped, intimidated even though the scowl was not directed at him.

 

“We need a fuel filter for a 1995 Chevy Impala,” Betty clipped in a short, no-frills tone.

 

The man wore a strange expression of confusion combined with amusement as his eyes darted back and forth from a five-foot-six blonde in a white cotton tunic to a 6-foot-two, square-jawed man in a leather jacket with jet black hair, and he clearly couldn’t believe that the former was the one doing the talking. 

 

He chuckled gruffly before nodding and uttering, rather condescendingly, “You got it, Princess.”

 

Betty turned her back to the counter, crossed her arms in a huff, and muttered, “For God’s sake, it’s 2017, you would think that a woman needing a damn car part wouldn’t be a reason to alert the media, yet here we are still being called ‘princess’ just for having blonde hair and a va-”

 

“Hey,” Jughead snapped her out of her quiet rant, hoping to bring a smile back to her face. “I really appreciate what you’re doing for me. I would’ve been lost as a goose, and probably taken advantage of by a prick like him if you weren’t here.” 

 

Betty allowed a satisfied smirk to creep onto her face before conceding, “Yeah, as soon as you opened your mouth you would’ve turned into a giant dollar sign to him.”

 

They both laughed, but were interrupted as the man returned with a small, heavy box in his hand. He plunked it on the counter before reciting the price, but just as Jughead was about to slide his card, Betty placed her hand on his. 

 

“I’m sorry, what? I’ve never paid that much for a fuel filter here,” Betty insisted angrily, obviously gearing up for a fight.

 

“Ever heard of a core charge, sweetie?” the man responded with impatience, regardless of the fact that they were the only customers in the store and the phone hadn’t rang since they’d walked in the door.

 

“Not on a fuel filter, and if you think you can cheat us out of twenty dollars just because he’s obviously clueless and I’m a woman, you’ve got another thing coming.”

 

Jughead wanted to interject in his own defense, but he knew Betty was right and his male pride was going to do nothing but stoke the feminist fire she held in her eyes at the moment.

 

“Now if you’ll kindly do your job correctly and enter my name in your computer, you’ll find me in your customer database and know that I’ve been shopping at this chain for years and know better than to let scum like you take advantage of me.” 

 

The man grumbled his irritation as he typed her information in as she gave it to him, and his eyes widened when he saw the inventory of parts she had purchased. He then read off the correct amount, and as Jughead went to slide his card again, Betty’s small, grease-smudged hand stopped him once again.

 

Jughead shifted uncomfortably on his feet at the sign of another confrontation between Betty and this con artist, and he prayed that he wouldn’t have to throw any punches on her behalf today.

 

“Due to your rudeness and negligence, I would like 25% off our purchase today,” Betty insisted.

 

“Listen, lady,” the man began angrily, rising from the stool he was sitting on.

 

“Unless you’d like me to report you for trying to wrongfully place a core charge on an item that doesn’t require one, which I’m quite sure would land you in a good bit of hot water with not only your supervisor, but potentially the law.” Jughead marvelled at Betty as she stood her ground against this neanderthal, though he was a bit distracted by the fact that her nimble, cool fingers still rested on his hand to prevent him from paying an unfair price.

 

With a heavy sigh, the man tapped a few keys and begrudgingly read off a new, lower price. Betty beamed a mega-watt smile and nodded at Jughead to finally go through with the payment. He looked up uneasily at the man as he typed in his PIN, the man glaring back at him as Betty grinned proudly beside him.

 

The man...Ed, Jughead read off his name tag, bagged their item along with the receipt, and remarked sarcastically as he handed it to them, “Please...Come again soon.”

 

“Oh we will, Ed. Thank you so much for your service today.” And with a final wave and toothy smile, Betty whisked her way out of the door, the bells jingling triumphantly above her, Jughead following behind with his head ducked low as he heard curses being spat behind the counter.

 

As they entered the car once again, Betty said apologetically, “I’m sorry you had to see that Jughead, but when you know as much as I do about cars and look the way I do, you get really sick of being taken advantage of by guys like him. They’re all crooks and I have yet to find a decent mechanic or parts store in this town who will give me a fair price without a fight.”

 

“Honestly, I was very impressed back there, Cooper. You seem like you’re all cupcakes and sundresses, but there’s a lot more to you, isn’t there?” Jughead teased, but his smile faded a little when he noticed something dark in Betty’s eyes that hadn’t been there before.

 

Betty allowed herself a moment to dwell on what he had said before the darkness disappeared once again, and she smiled at him and simply offered as an explanation, “Oh, Jughead. You have no idea.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back at the school parking lot, most of the teachers had cleared out, except for a few who had stayed behind to get some work done, and Jughead looked around the horizon as betty popped his hood again and got to work.

 

“Betty, I can get a cab if I need to to take me home. It’s about to get dark soon and I don’t want to keep you here all night.” Jughead knew that Betty needed to rest up before the next school day, and he’d hate to think that he kept her here after everything he knew she put into her days at school.

 

“No worries, Juggie. This shouldn’t take but about ten minutes,” Betty insisted, the nickname slipping out naturally, causing Jughead to smile like a giddy little kid.

 

Jughead nodded and offered his services as assistant, to which Betty chuckled lightly and requested that he bring her the navy blue tool bag from her trunk.

 

It smelled of grease and was deceptively heavy for such a small bag, and he placed it on the ground and unzipped it, ready to hand Betty what she needed. Her first request was for needle nose pliers, and he handed them to her before watching her struggle slightly to remove a small rubber hose from one end of what was apparently his fuel filter. He smiled fondly at her scrunched up nose, and just as he was about to offer a hand, the hose broke free and Betty smiled before wiping sweat from her brow, smearing grease across her forehead.

 

Jughead laughed silently, but became attentive again when she turned to him to request a small bit of tubing from the bag. Jughead found what he hoped she was looking for, and watched as she replaced the old, worn out rubber with the new piece. She then removed the tube from the other end and replaced that one as well.

 

Finally, she asked that he hand her the fuel filter from its box, and as she began to attach it to the new tubing, she broke their companionable silence. 

 

“So, Jughead. Now that we’re on a first name basis, tell me something about yourself. Something that I wouldn’t know just from working with you at school.”

 

Jughead was surprised that she so sincerely wanted to get to know him, and he struggled to think of something worth knowing about him before he offered, “I went to Southside Elementary. And Southside Middle and Southside High School.”

 

Betty stopped and looked at him for a moment, before she asked, “What is it that made you want to come back to where you’re from?”

 

Jughead thought about how to respond without getting into personal details he wasn’t ready to share just yet. “I just know what it’s like to be one of these kids and go through what some of them are going through and I want to be the person to them that I needed when I was one of them.”

 

Betty looked at him with an expression he had never had directed at him before. There was definitely pride and softness in it, along with admiration. He squirmed a little under her gaze, and she smiled knowingly before she went back to installing the filter.

 

Jughead was just about to level the playing field between them by asking her about herself, but before he could open his mouth, she turned around, tossed the pliers back in the tool bag, and dusted her hands. She then informed him that he should be mobile again and started to gather her things back into her car to leave. 

 

He was stunned by how quickly she had been able to finish up, and also a little uncomfortable at the fact that she had a bit of an upper hand on personal details between the two of them, which was something he had never allowed to happen with another person. 

 

Setting that feeling on the backburner, he stood up quickly and took out his wallet; but before he could ask how much he owed her, she gently placed her now-filthy hand, which was also unbelievably chilly from the cool breeze that swept in with the sunset, on his. Her hand made his seem large and warm and overwhelmingly strong, but he knew hers was stronger and more capable than it let on, just like the woman at the other end of the arm it was attached to.

 

“Your money’s no good here, Jughead. I could never charge a friend who was in need.”

 

Jughead smiled at her use of the term “friend” before placing his wallet back into the back pocket of his jeans, and thanking her profusely for her help, insisting that he owed her one. 

 

“Jughead, you can consider us even after the way you helped me last Friday. I never got a chance to thank you, but I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there. I certainly wouldn’t have been as calm as I was with you there beside me,” Betty finished with a slight shiver, just as she realized that the four fingers of her right hand were still resting between his thumb and forefinger, and that both of their hands had fallen and were hanging comfortably between them.

 

Jughead seemed to realize this at the same time, and they both jerked their hands back, his finding purchase on the back of his neck where he rubbed hard to quell his nerves, and Betty tucked her hair behind her ear nervously before flexing her hand open and closed a few times. She then grabbed the handle of her bag to put something safely in her palm.

 

They said good night awkwardly, and Jughead stood on the sidewalk with his hand still on his neck, waving softly at her as she backed her Prius into the lot and then headed down the street toward home. Once she was out of sight, he rested the back of his head in his interlocked hands and took a deep breath before shaking out his shoulders and finally climbing in his car to go home.

 

Betty reached the stop sign at the end of the road their school was on and stayed there longer than she needed to to collect herself, as there were no cars coming. She smiled at herself in her rearview mirror, took a few deep yoga breaths, and decided she needed a very deep glass of wine as soon as she got home. She flexed her hands a few more times to release the tension, then gripped the steering wheel once again and eased her way to her apartment on the next block.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Please forgive any inaccuracies with the car stuff, as my automobile knowledge is limited.  
> Please leave comments!!!


	7. A Family Affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of Jughead's tragic past comes back haunt him at the most inconvenient time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update! Sorry for taking so long. Obviously, I'm taking an unusual route with Jellybean in this fic, exploring another side of how Jughead and Jellybean could have turned out because of their circumstances. Please note: TW for drugs and alcohol in this chapter.

**Chapter Seven - A Family Affair**

 

Jughead startled awake when he heard a loud ringing sound very close to his ears, and his entire body sunk an inch deeper into the mattress when he picked up his phone and saw his little sister’s nickname shining brightly into his eyes.

 

Her calls had become more and more frequent lately, causing Jughead to become less and less able to resist giving in to whatever it was she thought she needed. Once the ringing stopped, he saw that he had slept through three other calls from her, and also missed several texts begging for money and a place to stay. As he scrolled through his notifications, another message popped up at the top that was vaguely threatening in nature, saying she had gotten involved with some “friends of his” who would be glad to teach him a lesson about “family loyalty.”

 

Jughead was well versed with the type of family loyalty Jellybean referred to. When he had been on the precipice of young adulthood, he fell for the same rouse of loyalty and protection. However, he quickly found out that that so-called loyalty and supposed protection came at a very steep and dangerous price. He had spent three years during his time at Southside High serving the Serpents, before he finally squared away his debts and cut his ties with the Southside in order to actually do something to benefit the world, secretly hoping that he could counteract the bad karma he’d surely racked up in his work for the Serpents.

 

It was Jellybean who brought him back to Riverdale the first time, just after he’d earned his Masters in Education. Right before he landed his Principal job in New York, Jellybean had called him for the first time in months, and he sat and listened while she told him the whole story of how she had gotten in deep with the Serpents; so deep that neither of them was sure how to get her out of it. At first, Jughead had bolted straight to Riverdale to try to help. The Serpents would have nothing to do with him after his “betrayal” of them years before, so he had done everything he could to secure Jellybean a decent job and a trailer in Sunnyside Trailer Park, along with leaving her a hefty sum of cash as a cushion to make sure she didn’t have to rely on the Serpents anymore.

 

One month.

 

One month was all it took for Jellybean to be back at Jughead’s doorstep, begging for more help. She had spent all the money he gave her on alcohol, pot, and unbeknownst to Jughead at the time, Jingle Jangle. She was also on the verge of losing the trailer due to an ill-advised bet with a troublesome Ghoulie who saw her naive vulnerability and took advantage of it.

 

She had dug herself in deep this time, but Jughead, with all his counselor knowledge from grad school, and all the good will in his heart for the baby sister he had mostly raised, gave her a ladder to climb out once again.

 

The cycle repeated itself for eight months before Jughead finally told Jellybean he was done enabling her in a very tearful, emotional fight on his front lawn late one night before he started his counselor gig at Southside Elementary. Jellybean ran from the Serpents without closing up her debts like Jughead had done, leaving her in danger if they were to ever come across her again. This was the only reason Jughead felt like he could move back to the Southside of Riverdale again when he heard that Southside Elementary had been left high and dry by their previous joke of a counselor.

 

For a while after he cut Jellybean off, he felt overwhelming guilt so much that he sobbed and broke something in his house every time she called or texted desperately begging for help. It was only after he started going to therapy, where he was advised to adopt a dog to give him something else to focus on and take care of, that he finally started to channel his guilt and anger about the circumstances that had led him and Jellybean into this cycle into something positive: taking care of Hot Dog, and serving the kids at Southside Elementary.

 

If it was too late for him to help Jellybean, he would seek out someone he could help. Or, in this case, many someones. He took on Southside Elementary so that he could end as many cycles as he could before they began - or in many cases, before they were perpetuated through another generation.

 

After Jellybean gave up on reaching him (or passed out - he never knew which it was), Jughead lay awake thinking about everything that led up to him becoming the counselor at Southside Elementary until his alarm finally went off three hours later, and it was time to get up. Not long after the alarm sounded, he heard a muffled sneeze, the sound of fur shaking, and the happy skitter of paws with roughly worn nails on 80-year-old hardwood floors.

 

Hot Dog bounded onto his bed seconds later, bathing him in sloppy kisses, and turning in happy circles to finally be able to interact with his master again. Jughead smiled despite his throbbing sleep-deprivation headache and buried his face in the dog’s fur, breathing in deeply the therapeutic smell.

 

He got up and began their morning routine: pour coffee (already brewed thanks to his automatic coffee pot), feed and water Hot Dog, take care of bathroom ablutions while Hot Dog eats, walk Hot Dog around the block while munching on a microwave breakfast sandwich, then swing back by the house to drop off Hot Dog and grab his school stuff.

 

His therapist had also suggested a steady routine to help him stay focused and positive, and so far it had worked. Going through his routine helped keep him distracted from whatever it was that was going on with his sister, and by the time he got to school he was excited to be back at work and ready to make a difference.

 

The first thing he did every day was check his email, and after responding to or deleting about 17 of them, he got to one that made his eyes nearly pop out of his head. The director at central office who oversaw the counselors in their district had emailed him to inform him that a slot had opened up at a counselors conference in Greendale over the upcoming weekend and he was expected to attend.

His director had at least been apologetic about the short notice, but he also informed Jughead that it was a great opportunity for professional development that would be unwise to pass up. Jughead resigned himself to the fact that he’d be going to the conference this weekend, but his mind instantly started reeling with everything he’d have to take care of in order to be gone for two nights.

 

Namely, what the hell was he going to do with Hot Dog.

 

There was no way that any hotel in Greendale would allow him to come along, and Jughead barely knew anyone in Riverdale anymore - at least not anyone who didn’t hate his guts and possibly want him dead.

 

He sunk his fingers into his dark hair, still messy from all the tossing and turning he’d done the night before, and began grumbling to himself about what he could possibly work out for Hot Dog. Just as he was reaching the peak of his spiral, the corner of his vision was flooded with pink and he turned to see Miss Cooper beaming at him much too brightly for the early hour.

 

He took a small, hardly noticeable deep breath to calm himself enough to interact with her normally, but she caught it, along with the heavy bags beneath his normally sparkling blue eyes and his hair, which was disheveled more than usual.

 

Concern quickly flooding her delicate features, she asked him, “Mr. Jones, is everything ok?”

 

“Yeah, yeah of course Miss Cooper. Everything’s totally fine.”

 

She quirked an eyebrow at him expectantly, letting him know wordlessly that she didn’t buy a word of that and he should know better than to try to hide it from her.

 

Sighing in mild defeat, he told her about his dilemma with the weekend conference and Hot Dog, leaving out the reason for the insomnia that contributed to his unusually haggard appearance.

 

Rehashing his problem got him worked back up about it again, and he started shaking his leg while twirling the strand of hair that so rebelliously fell into his eyes no matter what he did, his gaze cast towards the floor so he didn’t notice Miss Cooper clearly mulling something over in her mind, weighing pros and cons, before coming to a conclusion and interrupting his panic once again.

 

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

 

Jughead snapped out of his train of thought and stared blankly at her smiling face. “What?”

 

“I said, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of Hot Dog while you’re gone this weekend.”

“Miss Cooper, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’m sure you had plans of your own this weekend and it’s such short notice. I could never expect you to -”

 

“Jughead.”

 

Her abrupt use of his first name halted him and he looked up at her with vulnerability in his eyes.

 

“You’re not asking; I’m offering. Like most weekends, I have no plans for this one, and I would be happy to help you out by spending time with your dog. My only responsibility is a cat and I could probably fall off the face of the planet and she wouldn’t know I was gone until she ran out of food,” she said with a lighthearted chuckle.

 

Jughead let her words sink in and a grin slowly spread across his face as he realized her sincerity. He was taken aback by her kindness, the likes of which he had never known. No one had ever wanted to do anything for him, let alone without him even asking. He promised that he owed her a huge favor and that they would meet up later to discuss the details, as the bell was about to ring for school to start.

 

She ducked out of his office with a coy wiggle of her fingers, and Jughead sunk back into his desk chair and took a deep breath, feeling like he was coming up for air after the whirlwind of his quickly rising anxieties followed by their quick relief by Miss Cooper - Betty. Apparently they were on a first name basis now. He cracked his knuckles and shook his shoulders to loosen some of the tension remaining in his body, then grabbed his coffee tumbler and set off for his morning rounds.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning was their monthly staff meeting, and Jughead arrived about five minutes early to find a good seat that wasn’t too close to the front. He saw Betty talking animatedly with her teammate, Veronica, who was seated next to the redheaded PE teacher who scrolled grumpily through his phone, clearly not nearly as enthused as the girls to be at school an hour earlier than usual.

 

Jughead began to approach the table with caution, and felt relief was over him when he surreptitiously caught Betty’s eye and she smiled brightly before waving him over.

 

“Good morning!” she chirped.

 

“Hey,” he replied nonchalantly.

 

“Mr. Jones, a pleasure to see you this morning.” Miss Lodge spoke as if she had a secret, which made him incredibly uneasy, so he just nodded curtly in acknowledgement.

 

An awkward silence fell over the group, prompting Veronica to turn to Archie and engage him forcefully in a conversation about their plans for the weekend so that Betty had no choice but to turn to Jughead and ask him when he would need her this weekend.

 

“Well, the conference is for the whole weekend and it starts with a dinner and keynote speaker on Friday night. So I’ll need to leave shortly after school to get to Greendale. It ends on Sunday after they serve breakfast and have one last speaker so I should be back around lunchtime.”

 

“Great! If it’s ok, I’ll just get your house key before we leave Friday afternoon and you can give me any information I need to know about taking care of Hot Dog.”

 

Jughead had just opened his mouth to respond that that sounded perfect, when his attention was directed just beyond Betty by her pristinely-dress, pearl-wearing partner.

 

Veronica, unnoticed by Betty and Jughead, had been listening to their conversation and piped in hoping to find out something juicy about their weekend. “I didn’t hear much, but ‘house key’, ‘weekend’, and ‘Hot Dog’ were enough to pique my interest. What are you two cooking up over here?”

 

Jughead froze when the intimidatingly confident woman addressed him, but luck was in his favor; Principal Weatherbee chose that moment to collect the attention of his staff, allowing Jughead to smile politely before directing his attention to their boss, leaving Betty to lean in and quickly whisper to Veronica about their arrangement.

 

He could only speculate what Betty said, but was confused when he saw Betty blush and shift her gaze from Veronica, who was giving her the most menacing smirk he’d ever seen, before throwing an elbow to the ribs of the man next to her, who appeared to be her boyfriend and had nodded off while waiting for the meeting to start.

 

The redhead straightened himself slightly and caught sight of Jughead, causing his brow to furrow slightly in confusion. He whispered a question in Veronica’s ear, prompting her to glance at Jughead and then respond quietly. Archie seemed satisfied, glanced once more at Jughead, and then turned his attention halfheartedly to the principal.

 

 _I swear to god working at a school is just as cliquish as attending one_ Jughead thought to himself, trying to brush off the childish insecurity he felt at having people whisper about him, even though there seemed to be no ill intention behind it. Having any kind of relationship with his coworkers outside of a professional one intimidated Jughead, but he knew he should probably get over his long-harbored anxieties about social situations and allow himself to make a few friends in Riverdale. This was his second chance, after all, and he needed to make the most of it.

 

Keeping his head forward to feign paying rapt attention to the principal, Jughead cut his eyes over toward Betty. He took in her pale pink oxford button down and crisp white pedal pushers, finished off with pink mary janes that perfectly matched the tone of her blouse. He watched her ponytail shimmy as she scribbled notes furiously in her planner with her purple pen, and the corner of his mouth tugged upward at the way she chewed her lip in concentration.

 

A subtle motion in the corner of his eye broke him from his trance, and he realized that Veronica Lodge was slightly shaking her head and her secretive smirk was back as she watched him watch Betty. His face burned hot and he shot his gaze back to the front of the room, gluing his eyes to Principal Weatherbee even as he felt Veronica’s smug stare boring a hole in the right side of his head.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jughead took a few minutes Friday morning before school to scribble down some notes about Hot Dog’s feeding schedule, preferences, needs, and quirks Betty would need to be aware of, and after school he ran down the list with her to make sure she didn’t have any questions. He assured her that she need not stay at his house all weekend, that Hot Dog would be fine on his own if she had things she needed to do or wanted to sleep at her own place, but that his home was her home and she was welcome to any of the food or other comforts she found appealing.

 

With smiles and waves in the parking lot, Jughead headed off toward Greenville and Betty hopped in her Prius and typed Jughead’s address into Google Maps.

 

A text from V invaded the top of her screen as she hit “start” and she rolled her eyes when she saw that it said “Make sure you send me all the juicy details about Prince Charming’s mysterious castle” with a winking emoji.

 

Betty ignored V’s taunting and made her way toward her coworker’s home.

 

She let herself in and was greeted by a shaggy beast who, after a moment of confusion about his dad’s absence, fully embraced Betty’s presence and circled her with glee, begging for pets and attention. Betty lavished him for a few minutes before leashing him up for a walk around the block. She admired Jughead’s neighborhood and all its quaint little midcentury homes. His seemed to be one of the older ones in the area, but they were all well-updated while keeping their classic, old world charm.

 

When she returned, she fed Hot Dog and finally let herself look around his little bachelor pad. It was just as she had imagined it; all dark neutrals with natural light pouring into every room. His walls were lined with mismatched bookshelves that all somehow seemed to complement one another, and she perused his collection, spying a few of her favorites along with some she didn’t recognize. In the back of her mind, she took mental notes about his selections to help her engage him in conversation the next time they were together.

 

Hot Dog finished his food and promptly parked himself on the couch for an afternoon nap, allowing Betty to explore the rest of his house. She allowed herself to be curious without being too nosy into his private life. It was obviously he kept the place tidy - or had at least cleaned in anticipation of her arrival, and when she caught sight of the bedroom she ended the inner battle she’d been having with herself about whether to sleep on the couch or in his bed.

 

The bed had been neatly made and had one side turned down, obviously with fresh sheets and inviting her to make herself comfortable. She smiled at his thoughtfulness and turned to make her way back to the kitchen.

 

Somehow she was always starving after school no matter what or how much she ate for lunch, so she invaded his pantry and refrigerator to see what snacks he kept stocked. Alongside the typical single male junk food, she found yogurt, fruit, and a few other items she typically brought to school to snack on.

 

She knew Jughead was grateful for her help with Hot Dog in his absence, but she couldn’t believe he’d been kind enough to pick up some of her favorites to have on hand while she was here. She made another mental note to thank him properly later for his kindness.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Friday night and Saturday went off without a hitch. Betty spent most of her time at Jughead’s house, reading his books, cuddling with and walking Hot Dog, and enjoying his cozy space. It was almost like a more masculine version of her own home. They both appreciated neutrals and natural light, along with soft, comfortable furniture and natural accents. The only real difference was her space was quite light and airy, while his had a dark, brooding feel to it. She began to appreciate the contrast and settled in just as the sun went down on Saturday to watch Netflix on his modest TV.

 

She knew from the itinerary he had sent her in case she needed anything that Jughead would be eating dinner with the other conference attendees around this time, and then he’d attend one last seminar before returning to his hotel room before the conference wrapped up the following morning. She thought about this as she chose a recommended true crime series on his Netflix account, when she heard a knock on the door. Hot Dog’s ears perked and he immediately let out a few warning barks before approaching the door and sniffing it to see who might be invading his space. He let out a few more low barks before laying down near the door, still alert but clearly not afraid.

 

Betty stayed on the couch, hoping whoever it was would think no one was home and go away. She didn’t feel comfortable answering the door in someone else’s home, especially at night and in an unfamiliar, albeit pleasant, neighborhood.

 

Just as she was nervously settling back in to return to her series, the knocking returned, more like pounding this time, and it was accompanied by shouting.

 

“Come on, Jughead. I know you’re in there! There’s a car in the driveway that I assume is yours and I can see the TV is on. Just let me in!”

 

Betty froze in fear and Hot Dog stood back up, barking loudly and growling in warning to the intruder.

 

 _Who could possibly be beating on Jughead’s door right now begging to be let in? Was this a girlfriend? An ex, maybe?_ Betty’s mind sped through the possibilities as the pounding returned.

 

“DAMMIT Jughead you have to let me in, please! It’s your baby sister! It’s Jellybean! Please, I’m begging you Jughead, you have to help me! You won’t answer my calls or texts and you know I can’t be seen in Riverdale so if I get caught out here by the Serpents it’s YOUR fault!”

 

 _Serpents...What could Jughead’s sister have to do with the Serpents?_ Betty was alternating between confusion and concern, both for the safety of Jughead’s sister, who was clearly in danger, and for herself. She had no way of knowing if this person was dangerous to her or if the people who were after her might also come after Betty if they found her nearby.

 

Betty checked her watch and realized that Jughead would just be finishing up with his final seminar, and decided to give him a call instead of involving the police. That is, if the neighbors didn’t call them due to the increasing volume and desperation of his sister’s pleading.

 

Slowly crawling off the couch, Betty crouched down and made her way back to Jughead’s bedroom, where she locked the door and then hid in the closet for good measure. She quickly shot him a text to ask if he was busy and when he said he was done for the night, she immediately called him. He seemed a little worried when he picked up, and his concern only increased when he heard Betty’s shaky voice.

 

“Jughead, hi, I’m sorry to bother you…” she tried and failed to keep her voice steady and calm.

 

“Betty, you’re not bothering me at all. Is everything ok? What’s going on?”

 

“Well, your sister is here..”

 

“WHAT? My sister? By ‘here’ do you mean you let her in the house?” Jughead was simultaneously terrified and enraged that Jellybean would show up in god knows what state the night that poor Betty Cooper had been gracious enough to house/dog sit for him. He couldn’t believe she would be stupid enough - or high enough, more than likely - to show up in Riverdale, and GODAMMIT how had she found out where he lived?

 

“No, she’s not in the house, but she’s been pounding on the door and yelling at you to let her in for about twenty minutes. She’s convinced you’re home because I had the TV on and she saw my car in the driveway and thought it was yours. I’m so sorry, Jughead; this is all my fault,” Betty was near tears now and Jughead could hear the wateriness in her voice.

 

“Hey, hey - this is not your fault at all, Betty. I never thought my sister would show up like this. I’m so sorry you’re going through this right now because of me. Are you safe? Where are you?”

 

“Yeah, I’m totally fine. I’m in your bedroom and she’s still on the front porch. I can hear her at the front door.”

 

Jughead took a second to chide himself for the lurch he felt in his stomach at the thought of her in his bedroom - a thought he’d been avoiding all weekend. _Dammit, Jughead, this is so not the time._

 

“Ok, Betty, listen. I’m going to come home right now and take care of this. You stay in my bedroom and if anything changes you call me, ok? My sister isn’t going to hurt you but it’s not a good idea for her to know you’re there so just stay where you are. I promise it’s going to be ok. Do you believe me?”

 

“Yeah, Jug, I trust you. I’ll wait here and let you know if anything escalates.”

 

“Ok, Betty. I’m so sorry.”

 

“Juggie, it’s ok.”

 

His heart leapt at the tender nickname, and he reminded himself it wasn’t the time for feelings. He quickly gathered his things from his hotel room and sped off in his car.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Jughead reached his house, Jellybean was sitting on his porch, back to his front door, still crying out his name and begging for asylum. Furious, Jughead stomped up the steps, snapping her out of her misery, and grabbed her by her biceps. She struggled as he pulled her up off the porch and stood her on her feet, where she wobbled a little before locking her dilated eyes on him and it was as if she suddenly realized where she was and what she had done.

 

“WHAT THE FUCK, Jellybean! What are you thinking coming here like this in the middle of the night banging on my door and screaming at me? Do you realize I have neighbors? This isn’t the fucking trailer park, this is a suburb full of little old ladies and families! Thank god one of them called me instead of calling the damn cops!”

 

“I’m sorry, Jughead, but if you had just -”

 

“If I had just what?! Given you thousands of dollars of my money, gotten you three different places to live and five decent jobs that you got yourself fired from? Spent months worrying about where you were and what you were doing and if you were dead in a ditch somewhere OD’d on Jingle Jangle? I did do those things, JB, and you threw it all in my face every time! You have no right to ask me for anything anymore, let alone come to my house! You realize if the Serpents or Ghoulies saw you here, what they would do to the both of us? And you led them straight to my neighborhood? To where I live? What the hell were you thinking?!”

 

Jughead’s chest heaved as all the months of anger and agony he’d felt for his sister came to a head. Tears spilled down her face as she sobbed, sinking down to the porch as regret and shame overcame her.

 

“You have five minutes to get the fuck off my porch before I call the police,” Jughead spat bitterly. With that, he sauntered inside and slammed the front door before sliding the deadbolt into place authoritatively. He made his way to the farmhouse sink where he gripped the edges with white knuckles and leaned over it to heave and then catch his breath, before watching as Jellybean slowly gathered herself and climbed pitifully down the steps and down the street into the night.

 

Jughead took several calming breaths and splashed cold water on his face before going to the bedroom to face Betty. He was sure she’d be furious with him for putting her in this situation, as well as for whatever of his secrets Jellybean had blabbed while making a scene on his front porch. So much for making new friends and a new future in Riverdale.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Betty sat in the closet for what felt like hours, counting as she breathed slowly in and out, the way her therapist had taught her.

 

“In, two, three, four.

Out, two, three, four.”

 

...Over and over again as she flexed her hands dutifully until she heard a male voice join the cacophony of banging and shouting at the front of the house.

 

She could hear Jughead shouting, but she could make out very little of what he said. Despite there being several walls between them, she was sure she had never heard or seen Jughead this angry before and she wondered further at the relationship that brewed between he and his sister.

 

Betty thought she had done pretty well with keeping it together - she hadn’t even pierced the skin of her palms with her fingernails - but when Jughead finally rushed into the room and called out her name, she pushed the closet door open and remained seated on the floor. When Jughead saw her, his tense, worried demeanor fell and turned instantly to regret and guilt. Betty rose up to her knees and Jughead fell to his to match her. He opened his mouth to speak but he didn’t seem to know where to begin. Wanting to help him out, Betty started…

 

“Jughead.” She put her hand on his face as if to prove to him that she was ok.

 

“Betty, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I’m just so sorry I put you in this situation and that you saw that and - I don’t know what I’ll ever be able to do to make it up to you and I completely understand if you never want to speak to me again.”

 

He reached a hand up to swipe the moisture under her red-rimmed eyes with his thumb as he repeated his apologies, and she gently placed her hand on his wrist in an attempt to be reassuring.

 

“Jughead, none of this was your fault. It was just an unfortunate coincidence that I happened to be here when your sister showed up. I should’ve just taken care of what you needed and stayed at my own place instead of taking advantage of your hospitality.”

 

“Betty, no,” he interrupted, “I wanted you to stay here. I wanted you to enjoy yourself while you were helping me out. I just feel awful that instead of giving you a relaxing weekend I gave you this horrible trauma.”

 

Betty surprised Jughead by laughing amusedly despite the circumstances, and he looked up at her with a confused expression.

 

“Jughead, of the traumas I’ve faced in my life, this is one of the least. Trust me.”

 

He seemed to let that register and he tried not to show his surprise that this beautiful angelic human had ever known a day of despair in her pretty pink existence. Then he remembered their conversation in the car on the way from the parts store and he realized that there was much more to Betty Cooper than what meets the eye. He suddenly felt determined to know every layer of her being, despite the fact that moments ago he had been assuring her that he understood if she wanted to cut bait.

 

Jughead reached forward to take her hands gently, and though she jerked a little in reflex when he gripped them, she let him hold them as he stood and then pulled her to her feet.

 

“Come on, let’s go in the kitchen and wind down a little from all the excitement and then I’ll drive you home.”

 

“Ok,” Betty said with a smile, “I’m just going to use the bathroom first.”

 

She turned and entered the master bathroom, and almost shrieked when she turned on the light and saw her face in the mirror. She thought she had done a great job of holding it together, but she now understood the expression on Jughead’s face when he saw her on the floor in the closet. God, she must have looked so pathetic.

 

Her hair was a rat’s nest, thrown into a topknot for comfort earlier, now it was ragged and tangled from gripping it to avoid clenching her fists too tight. Her eyes were red and swollen from the tears she’d shed and furiously wiped away on her sleeve, and her bottom lip had blood blisters from where she’d nervously chewed it in her panic. She quickly used the toilet and then spent a good five minutes at the sink trying to calm her red skin and straighten the knots in her hair.

 

When she was satisfied, she left the bathroom and found Jughead in the kitchen waiting for two cups of chamomile tea to steep. He offered her a box of oreos with an apology for not having more sophisticated baked goods on hand.

 

Her good natured laugh lifted the heavy weight that the evening had left on his heart, and he smiled sincerely as she took an oreo and nibbled on it daintily as Jughead put a whole cookie in his mouth.

 

They enjoyed their cookies in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Betty spoke to ask him how the conference was.

 

He looked at her questioningly, as if gauging if that was actually the question she wanted the answer to, and she smiled at him patiently, encouraging him to respond.

 

“It was good. I’m glad I went, actually. I learned a lot and there were some really impressive speakers at the seminars I chose. Sometimes these things are just a boring waste of time, but this one really gave me some tools I’m excited to get back to school and use.”

 

“Jughead, that’s so great! I’m - I’m really glad you went too.” She smiled sincerely and he read between the lines to see that what she really meant to say was _I don’t regret helping you, despite what happened tonight._

 

He sighed in grateful relief that their friendship had survived a major familial trauma. He saw this as a sign of a true friendship. Most people headed for the hills as soon as a past as tragic as his surfaced, but not Betty. He had a feeling that this had something to do with her own background, but he decided that was a mystery to solve another day.

 

They both drained their cups of tea, and when Jughead moved to put the oreos back in the pantry, Betty contributed by depositing the teacups into the deep sink. He turned around and thanked her, then they both awkwardly stood for a moment in the kitchen, avoiding eye contact, neither of them sure what to do next.

 

Jughead clapped his hands together, causing Betty to start just slightly. Jughead didn’t notice, and he went on to say, “Well, the least I can do is drive you home. Shall we?”

 

Betty stalled rather than responding, and she began to worry her bottom lip between her teeth again. Jughead looked at her inquisitively, not prompting anything, just waiting for her to find the words she wanted to say.

 

Finally, she managed to get out, “Actually, Jughead, I know this is a lot to ask and I totally understand if you don’t want me to, but I was kind of hoping maybe I could crash on your couch tonight? I’m really fine after everything that happened, but if I’m being honest I’m a little shaken up and I think I’d just rather not be alone. But if it’s not ok, I totally get it and I’m sure Veronica wouldn’t mind at all if I came to stay with her…” She only trailed off when she finally looked Jughead in the eye and saw his look of smug amusement at her babbling.

 

“Betty. Of course you can stay here. But I insist you take my bed. I’ll gladly sleep on the couch.”

 

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly - “ Jughead took a risk by placing one finger gently to Betty’s lips, and he tried to keep his focus on remaining smug and in control instead of how soft and pillowy her perfect mouth was against his calloused skin.

 

“Betty. After everything that happened tonight, you have to give me this. Please.”

 

“Ok,” she murmured quietly against his finger, and only then did he let it drop to his side. Jughead retrieved his overnight bag from the car and used the hallway bathroom for his nighttime needs, while Betty used the master bathroom as she had the night before. She came out to thank Jughead again and wish him good night, but she saw that he was already passed out on the couch, half-heartedly covered by the throw she had used during her attempted Netflix binge earlier, and dressed in a pair of gray Nike sweatpants and a white tank top that allowed her to view more of his biceps than she ever had before.

 

Betty sent up a quick prayer of thanks to the gods of sexy men’s loungewear, and retreated to the bedroom where Hot Dog waited to snuggle her into a safe and peaceful sleep.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! <3 find me on Tumblr @theladylabyrinth


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